


somewhere between black and gray

by runsoftbin



Series: Excerpts: When We're Here [7]
Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Dealing with stuff, M/M, Vague, important piece of iwt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:00:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24125539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runsoftbin/pseuds/runsoftbin
Summary: There were days when Hanbin was so tired, couldn’t even move his limbs or open his eyes. Jiwon named it cold days—because that was indeed what Hanbin felt all over his body. So, Hanbin just slept, and slept again.Jiwon always slept with him. He said so Hanbin could dream of nice things.
Relationships: Kim Hanbin | B.I/Kim Jiwon | Bobby
Series: Excerpts: When We're Here [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1353796
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	somewhere between black and gray

**Author's Note:**

> written when i am in the mood to rot

[Ulsan]

When Hanbin saw black, it reminded him of cold days where blankets didn’t help his shivering body. It smelled like fear, somehow, like a dark cloud that engulfed him completely leaving no room to breathe.

So, most of the time, he was in so much pain that he had no option but to reach out his hands to grab something—anything at all that could help him stay afloat.

Deep down his quivering heart, he was hoping for those warm embrace—those whose shoulders were strong and sturdy, where he used to lay his head on when sleep felt like an enemy.

What’s scary was that, usually his pale fingers reached nothing but thin air—it was too often that he heard the surrounding mocking him, telling him mean things like, _huh, who are you hoping now? You rejected him, remember?_

Some fucked up part of Hanbin’s brain screamed that he deserved to suffer—to feel the cold seeping so deep that it pierced his bones, running through his veins like toxins that spread far into his capillaries.

But lately, he smelled tea and lemon quite too often—and it soothe him somehow because back then it was the smell of comfort. Of his little home.

Of warm hands and sturdy shoulders.

.

.

.

_“Your heart is beating too fast.”_

Hanbin reached the warmth on his chest, thinking that _could this feeling be the effect of medicines?_ And he thought about how it would be cruel if this was an imagination.

So, he surrendered. He could settle with the cruelty later, he thought. He needed comfort now.

.

.

.

“What do you usually see in those dreams?” she asked.

Hanbin didn’t like it here.

“You can tell me, slowly.”

Hanbin unconsciously clenched his fists, but there were small stuffed toys in each of his hands.

Jiwon. Jiwon gave him those.

“…Kim Hanbin- _ssi_?”

His chest felt tight and he wanted to vomit.

“I want Jiwon.” He said instead.

.

.

.

Lately, Hanbin’s brain had tricked him that to fight the dark cloud that was always threatening to swallow, he needed some rain.

So, he always stayed under the coldest shower a little too long, until what remained was thin fog. It was better, he thought. At least it wasn’t dark.

But he could feel his teeth chattered and his lungs quivered. It was numb—the water had drenched him whole, even his bones too, at this point. At least it wasn’t painful, he thought.

When he closed his eyes for what he felt like only half a second, the cold stopped. He was pulled from the depth of his thought--gently. Like he’s not allowed to freeze away his entire body just to block out the messy thought.

He was pulled gradually, so his body thought that it was okay, _no need to panic._

But then he heard sobs. He tasted salt.

Weird, he thought. It wasn’t him who cried.

.

.

.

_“…I will be back exactly at 6, okay? When this alarm goes off, I would be here already. No need to be scared because I will be back.”_

Mornings like this always make Hanbin’s stomach queasy like an invisible hand was stirring it so he could vomit the content out entirely.

He knew his tears already fell to the pillow sheet.

_“…I will always come back to you, yeah?”_

Hanbin nodded.

_What if he doesn’t?_

Said the voice inside his head.

.

.

.

There were days when Hanbin was so tired, couldn’t even move his limbs or open his eyes. Jiwon named it cold days—because that was indeed what Hanbin felt all over his body. So, Hanbin just slept, and slept again.

Jiwon always slept with him. He said so Hanbin could dream of nice things.

The nicest it got was when he saw thin fog. At least it wasn’t dark clouds. At least it wasn’t black.

.

.

.

Hanbin wasn’t sure, was it pine? Or mint?

It’s green. Jiwon smelled like green, fresh air, and thin fog in the morning. Sometimes he’s warm too, like sunrise.

.

.

.

Jiwon’s face features were sharp, his skin was soft. Hanbin had traced the curve of his jaw with the tip of his fingers, up to the dark bag under his eyes. He realized how Jiwon looked tired as his chest rises and falls in steady rhythms, how he had lost weight too just in a few months.

Hanbin tried to control his breaths as he felt the regret, the guilt, slowly making its way to choke him.

“…have you cried a lot because of me?”

He asked, even though he knew that the older man would not hear him.

So Hanbin moved closer to Jiwon who was sleeping facing him, tenderly pressing a kiss on his forehead.

The things he felt in his chest, Hanbin thought he would never be able to completely convey word per word. How it felt like sharp jabs that went all the way to the pit of his stomach, like a strong pull of gravity. Like air that was a little too much inside of his lungs, yet he’s still gasping for more.

Like pleasant ache. The kind that he wanted to feel forever.

And he thought maybe love was like this. Like ache.

Hanbin pulled away then. And Jiwon was so, so beautiful under the dim light of their yellow night lamp.

.

.

.

_“Baby, wake up…”_

And that voice was so soft, Hanbin felt like he was a baby under the care. He smiled—crooked teeth and narrow eyes, smile lines on the corners of his eyes.

So, Hanbin reached out his hands to feel those unblemished skin—so soft under his touch, so familiar and warm. He smiled even wider, and that looked like a flash of happiness despite the sad and glassy eyes.

_“Good morning.”_

And then a kiss on his shoulder. And then his cheek. And then his forehead.

“Good morning…” Hanbin said. His voice sounded rough. How much had he been sleeping, really?

There was a hand then running through his slightly long hair.

_“Wanna play puzzle today?”_

Hanbin felt like running his hand on that chest—those shoulders look strong and he thought he would fit nicely there. He felt warmth on his palm as he curiously placed it on the side where the latter’s heart might be.

“It’s… warm here.”

There was an airy laugh after that—the kind that was low and soft, like a chuckle but more sincere.

_“Yeah?”_

Hanbin nodded.

_“I can make you feel warmer if you want. Can I come closer and hug you?”_

Hanbin paused—or maybe he was thinking. He lifted his gaze only to see a set of expectant eyes, like they are hoping, expecting an answer.

Hanbin felt his heart flooding, like something filled his chest cavity with feelings—and he recognized these feelings.

But what was the name of that feeling again?

“…please.” He then said.

And in no time, he was gently pulled into an embrace. It’s almost unbelievable how it felt like he was being thawed, like he’s inside an icy box trapped with bad thoughts and dark clouds—so he needed it to melt away.

_“…thank you. Thank you, baby.”_

Hanbin closed his eyes—he could hear beats. It’s steady and firm, he thought, reminding him of the past but he refused to open the box where he had stored it and put it away.

He was still confused, though. He thought he was the one who is thankful.

But he didn’t say it. So, he closed his eyes again.

.

.

.

[END]

.

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> i am a sad human being who writes sad things


End file.
